


I don't care

by ButterflyPrincess



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Fluff, Fnatic, Getting Together, M/M, Rekkles is a little bit of a douche, Undefined Relationship, still cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 04:12:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6223411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButterflyPrincess/pseuds/ButterflyPrincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Klaj joins the team some things get easier while others get extremely hard. </p>
<p>- In which Rekkles struggles really hard to not just think rationally and Klaj won't give up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I don't care

**Author's Note:**

> First of all: Apologies for every typo, mistake, whatever. I can't re-read this right now because it's fucking late here, but I have to upload this today because tomorrow I'll be going on a trip to Spain and I don't want to have this on my pc so untouched for so long, so forgive me my mistakes. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy a ship I ship so fucking hard because of IEM I can't even deal with it.

I don't care 

 

_I don't care how complicated this gets. I still want you._

_You actually hurt me more than you think._

 

It's strange, isn't it? How some people just change your life completely. Martin knows what this feels like, he's practically an expert in that field. He just used to think that only happens when people leave. It rarely happens when they come.

 

One of his biggest life changers was Yellowstar leaving Fnatic. He didn't know if it was really appropriate to be angry at him, but he certainly was. He had been sad about Huni and Reignover leaving, of course. They were good friends, very fun to be with and insanely good players. But with Yellowstar leaving he suddenly became a team captain. Nothing he had had in plan, to be honest. He couldn't really describe it, but if someone would've actually bothered to ask he would've said he felt betrayed.

 

It wasn't even him and Bora being close or anything. They had been friends like everyone on the team. But when he had told the remaining bits of their team that he was leaving... Well, Martin just really came to question their friendship at this point. The biggest issue being that Bora had always known that Martin was kind of the second captain and still he went away, forcing the job on Martin and Martin alone. It just hurt in a way.

 

But that was then and this is now. Now was the second half of spring split and now we come to a person that joined.

 

It's not like Martin hadn't liked Lewis, he was a nice guy and a fairly good player but it just never really clicked. He didn't really have anything in common with any other member, their play styles were really different... It just didn't work out. And thus he left. He didn't seem too sad about it almost directly receiving an offer from ROCCAT.

 

The point however is that that was the time when _he_ joined. Johan Olsson, known as “Klaj”. Calling him the prince that was promised might be a bit over exaggerated but he was definitely a huge help. He had that smug smile on his face when he first entered the gaming house and he just looked like he knew exactly what to do even though he honestly didn't. But it just gave Martin that small sense of security he needed.

 

There were basically two questions Martin would know the answer for for his entire life. Did it make his life harder that Yellowstar left? Hell yes. Did it make his life easier when Klaj joined? Well, that's complicated. It was actually indeed fucking complicated.

 

One should think that a new support that fits well with the team and actually contributes to everything in the game, a guy who cares about map control and even helps considering the right calls would solely make Martin's life easier. Which he definitely did. Game wise Johan made his life a shit ton easier. But that was the exact point. Game wise.

 

The thing that made Martin's life incredibly hard was his lack of sleep. His mind running wild, his heart beating to fast to relax if his thought went into the wrong direction. Every light-hearted joke, every late night talk about everything and nothing at all, every careless touch made his life so much harder.

 

Maybe it was the fun they had when they exchanged random dirty sentences and just laughed at how no one else was able to understand them. Maybe it was that fucking smile that could drive anyone crazy. Maybe it was the playful look that was always in the other Swede's eyes. Or maybe... Maybe it was just how _instantly_ they had clicked.

 

Martin didn't know why. He had no fucking idea why. But he knew one thing: He couldn't get his mind off his Support and when he was entirely honest and didn't spend all his force on keeping his mind shut... When it was late at night and he looked to the bed to his right, listening to Johan's breath and seeing the innocent face he had when sleeping... Then, but only then he would admit that he had it really fucking bad for that guy. And it would probably kill him.

 

.

.

.

 

“I fucked up, didn't I?” Johan's laugh was dry and without real joy. The game against SPLYCE had been a fucking slaughter and that's how all of them felt: slaughtered. It's just what you do after a game without any kills: Grief and feel like the most worthless shit on earth. It's normal. It hurts but it's just how it goes.

 

“We all fucked up to be honest”, Martin said, his voice weaker than he wanted it to be, his eyes a bit sorer than he thought they would be. It hurt more than he expected; being demolished by a team that most likely wouldn't even make it to playoffs.

 

“Nah, you did well... As always actually. I just... I really lost our lane. I'm sorry.”

 

Martin blinked at those words. Johan seemed so honest and regretful when he said them but at this state Martin knew he wasn't a perfect enough human being to really pity him. Instead, he just started to drown in his own grief.

 

“You know... I can't really blame you. I just... I don't know, in lane I'm not as concentrated as I should be and later on I make the wrong calls and no matter what happens. No matter what could've been done better... Every lost game is on me... I... I can't really deal with this.” His voice was far from clear and you could possibly hear every bit of disappointment in it.

 

Johan looked at him in a way he wasn't quite ready for. Full of sympathy and he looked even sadder about everything. “Don't be that harsh to yourself...”, he sighed wrapping one arm around Martin's shoulder whose heart jumped a bit at an instant. “We lost a game, pretty hard yes, but it's just one of many games. We can still smash everyone else, right?”

 

Johan gave him a bright smile. You know, one of those special smiles that just make you world light up a bit. One of those smiles that just wipe every emotion you had before, besides happiness. And all Martin felt was a welcoming warmth in his chest and his stomach. And he smiled along, leaning his head onto the other boy's chest for a second and maybe a second longer.

 

“Thank you”, he whispered. It was hard to explain why but all of a sudden he just felt insanely grateful to have Johan around him, to have him in the team, to have him in his life.

 

“For what?”, Johan chuckled, his hand carefully caressing Martin's hair.

 

“You”, was all Martin managed to answer.

 

It was barely a second later that he looked up, his eyes instantly meeting Johan's and he got completely lost. He actually felt _lost._ As in completely unable to spot what to do. His heart beat faster, his face felt hot all of a sudden and his head was in a complete blurry.

 

_You know where this is leading to for fuck's sake, stop it! He's your team mate and you are supposed to be professional. Why would you do this? Don't. No, no, don't look at his lips, idiot!_

 

He ignored the quiet screams of common sense in his head. It was useless anyway. It was already too late. His gaze flickering between Johan's eyes and lips, this entire surroundings being unreal and almost non-existent, his heart beating to loud to not be heard by the other guy... It was just too late.

  
“Thank you”, he whispered once again and closed the gap between their lips. His whole body was filled with such a great warmth, with such a strange feeling of... 'home' and with a huge bubble of joy, it just seemed unreal. Their lips moved against each other in a rhythm so synchronized as if they'd done this a thousand times before – outside of their minds.

 

“Martin?”, Johan whispered as they slowly parted their lips looking at each other with just too many emotions in their eyes.

  
“Y-yeah?”, he responded, not quite being able to find the strength to speak.

 

“What does this mean for you?” The question was a concerned one, a hint of distrust in Johan's voice, a hint of insecurity and fear.  
  
“Way too much”, Martin said under a shaky breath nervously running a hand through his hair. It _did_ mean too much, he wasn't lying at all. They couldn't do this, it was unprofessional and put the team in a weird form of danger. The one that when they'd break up at some point (which is nothing you want to think about when you're in love with someone, but that's just how life works) there would occur serious problems in terms of team dynamics.

 

“Same”, Johan agreed but nonetheless he moved his hand towards Martin's, loosely intertwining their fingers.

 

It was a small moment of peace, of hearts beating fast but lively and butterflies making their rounds through their guts. None of them ever wanted to let go but they both knew that _this_ was going to be a huge-ass problem.

 

.

.

.

 

“Martin, I don't know if you really can't understand that or if you simply don't want to. But I can't fucking do this. That's just... not for me, you know? Trying to suppress something that's _obviously_ there, just occasionally fucking around when _you_ decide that you can deal with not being the perfect good boy for one day. Or hour. Or moment. Whatever.”

 

It's only two week after their first kiss and there they are: fighting. Because that's what Martin had fucking expected. Okay, not really. But he knew _something_ would go wrong after this. They just hadn't talked it out really. One day they would exchange touches, desperate looks, kisses when no one watched... But the other day Martin would try and be composed. Try to not his affection. Try to be professional. 'The perfect good boy' as Johan put it. Martin confronting him with a tweet that randomly said “You actually hurt me more than you think” because he thought of it as obvious and something people would ask questions about didn't exactly make it better.

 

“You know, I have some kind of responsibility here. A captain doesn't usually 'fuck around' with his mates, you know? It's just... I need to control myself. I can't afford to have emotions mixed into all of this. I-I can't deal with _all_ this right now.”

 

“Fine. Okay? Fine. Then we don't have to do this _at fucking all._ Not that I have like a massive crush on you or something, no. No, I'm fine. If you even care about that when you're not just drowning in self-pity for once”, Johan spit out, every word sounding poisonous. He turned around and left, not saying a word.

 

Martin felt like utter garbage.

 

.

.

.

 

“Fuck you”, Johan said under his erratic breath, his back pressed against the wall of their room, his shirt laying on the ground, hands fumbling on Martin's body, reaching for him, _longing_ for him as if he would never be able to touch him ever again. He hated that he loved it.

 

“I'm sorry, I can't... without you...”, Martin answered back, barely able to form words between wet kisses and desperate touches. He let his hands move down Johan's body, going for a firm grip on his ass making him gasp.

 

.

.

.

 

It's 3am when Johan wakes up, heart beating like crazy. And of course with a fucking boner. Perfect. Maybe it wouldn't have been that bad if it'd been the first time. But no, this was already at least the third time he would dream of him and Martin after their fight. ...Which had been three days ago... He was really fucked up at this point to be honest.

 

He sighed. Probably way too loudly but he didn't necessarily care. If Martin heard it, he heard it. If not, then not. Not that this guy cared about anything other than this goddamn game and his god forsaken reputation and responsibility and whatever. He didn't care about other's feelings and this was probably the worst thing ever.

 

“Johan? Can we talk about this?”  
  
He nearly jumped at the sudden question, not even realizing that it came from his room mate and AD Carry and probably biggest jerk on earth. Maybe he was being too harsh. But in his opinion this was nothing you could _not_ be harsh about.

 

“The fuck are you awake?”, he groaned, burying his face in a pillow.

 

“Could ask you the same thing... But still, can we talk about this?”, Martin repeated.

 

“Not that there's much to talk about anymore...”, he said, turning on his back, turning his head to Martin.

 

“I don't want us to be like this”, Martin whispers, no strength in his voice, it sounded more like... defeat. Just pure defeat.

 

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you told me was making our _whatever_ public or some shit. Because I didn't. Posting random cryptic shit is something thirteen year old girls have been doing since the invention of social media. There's no way anyone would interpret anything into that...”

 

“I know...”, Martin sighed, “Guess I'm just looking for excuses. To not just kiss you every time I see you, you know?” He let out a dry laugh. His gaze fixed at the ceiling.

 

“Why is this so hard for you?”

 

Another joyless laugh. “You don't understand, right? It's not hard... Not at all. Liking you, looking at you thinking 'damn I have it bad'. It's not hard. What's hard is what comes after. The constant worry about what happens when it doesn't work out. How it affects the team. It may sound cruel but I _have to_ consider that.”  
  


“Why can't we just work out?” is the question he asks bluntly. Like a child asking why a bird can fly. They still haven't really talked about what they even are or supposed to be. But something tells him it's nothing that _can't_ work.

  
“You can't just assume that we can just hug, kiss, make out, fuck backstage and everyone is perfectly happy with it and that it's never stop being good...”

 

“You really think we fit that badly?”

 

“I just don't want it to go wrong. Too many things have gone wrong in the past few weeks”, he whispered in a sad tone. It's the first time he looked Johan into the eyes during this conversation. He's close to crying, that's obvious.

 

“Can I ask you one question and you promise me to say 'yes'?”

 

“I'm not going to marry you.” Martin laughed, for real this time. Quietly and only a few seconds, but it's a genuine laugh which made Johan grin.

  
“No, no. I just wanted to ask... if you want to at least try? You'll never know if you don't try, right?” He smiled at Martin. A small smile, an encouraging one, hoping that he'd say yes. Although he felt a little pathetic because he had been so angry at Martin and now he just wanted him to kiss him or cuddle or what the fuck ever. He was of the weak kind, okay?  
  


“I... Johan, I'm sorry but I just can't. I want us to be friends, but more might wreck us, don't you think?”, he said, trying to sound convincing. And failing.

 

“Fuck you”, Johan whispered, turned around and closed his eyes to sleep. Of course he couldn't and of course he was being unbelievably immature right now. But who the fuck cared? “I don't care how complicated this gets. I still want you”, he whispered, almost not hearing it himself.

 

.

.

.

 

Judging from the way they were able to keep their little arguments and other incidents away from their team and how they just acted as if nothing had happened ever, one could think that they should have become actors.

 

But to be honest, no one's perfect, right? They couldn't keep everything a secret and so every member of Fnatic new one bit, but one bit only.

 

Febiven had heard Johan jacking off in the bathroom, quietly whispering Martin's name. Enough information for poor little innocent Fabian. Who wasn't all that innocent but that's for another time.

 

Gamsu and Spirit had once caught Martin stalking up and down the hallway, talking to himself about how everything's too much and how he had some serious concerns about something. Definitely not enough information for two curious Koreans.

 

And so all of them started watching. They were watching every step their botlane made, every look they shared, every touch, every mumbled Swedish exchanging of words. Until they all agreed that there was something completely weird between the two of them.

 

“Don't you guys think we should fix this before IEM?”, Fabian asked his top and jungle the Monday before IEM. They just simultaneously shook their heads.

 

“They be okay soon I think”, Dayoon just said, grinning and Fabian knew that this guy was probably a thousand times smarter than he'd ever admit.

 

.

.

.

 

“Your mic”, Martin chuckled and reached out for Johan's headset which wasn't all that on point. He tried to adjust it, failing at the first try, successful at the second one.

 

It was a weird moment to come to possibly life-changing realizations, in a pause during a game against World Champion SKT T1, but that's what happened to Martin. He realized something.

 

As his heart furiously pounded inside his chest, as if trying to break out. As he looked Johan into his eyes. As they smiled at each other in way so loving and caring that it was almost too cliché to deal with... He realized that it was definitely worth a try.

 

“Let's try”, he whispered in Swedish, so none of his other mates would understand him, but Johan. A huge grin appeared on his face and they just took a few seconds to look at each other and smile. Genuinely smile, because that's what they'd needed right now.

 

 

“Told you”, Dayoon grinned as he looked at his botlane basically eye-fucking on stage.

 

Fabian just sighed, slightly annoyed that this little shit of a jungler was always right, but also thinking of all the different ways he could kill Faker in this game...

**Author's Note:**

> Also, Rekkles liked a tweet in which I said how fucking hard I shipped him and Klaj, so I take this ship as sailed.  
> Good night, day whatever 
> 
> Lots of love <3


End file.
